By P. D. Martin
A tender woman's physique is located with puncture marks on her neck, and shortly the scrumptious notice vampire is on everyone's lips. All of FBI profiler Sophie Anderson's skills--psychic and psychological--will be wanted for her to figure out no matter if this used to be a thrill kill or anything much more sinister.
Exploring the blood bars and Goth golf equipment of L.A., Sophie immerses herself within the seductive tradition of self-styled vampires. Posing because the eye-catching woman Veronica and infiltrating a infamous extended family, Sophie will examine simply how deep the delusion is going for a few believers.
When existence calls for dying, not anything is sacred.
Read or Download Kiss of Death (Sophie Anderson, Book 5) PDF
Similar crime books
"Donovan Creed, a former CIA murderer, is a really difficult guy with a weak spot for terribly effortless ladies. Meet him in deadly humans a relentlessly exciting crime novel that's usually LOL humorous! The motion is speedy and livid, the discussion shrewdpermanent, savvy and attractive, and the tale is stuffed with quirky characters and shrewdpermanent surprises.
Whilst much-despised Marbury Marfan senior accomplice Simon Rafer turns up in a chilly pool of blood with an ornate dagger in his again, it comes as a shock to no one—least of all to Robert Tarza, who's first at the scene. A long-time associate at Marbury, Tarza understands dozens of lawyers within the company who had sturdy cause to wish Rafer within the flooring.
To people who were forsaken, hell has no geography.
The Black Angel starts with the disappearance of a tender prostitute from one in all long island City's seamiest neighborhoods. Like such a lot of tormented souls prior to her, the girl's mom is unavoidably attracted to Charlie Parker's doorstep determined for redemption and revenge. regardless of the chance that his selected career imposes on his spouse and infant daughter, Parker is familiar with that the girl and her issues can't be neglected. As regularly, he's pushed as a lot by means of the evil that simmers within the hidden honeycomb global as he's through the binds of friendship and blood.
As Parker will get in the direction of the girl's captors, he discovers that her disappearance is associated with a church of bones in jap Europe, to the slaughter at a French monastery in 1944, and to the parable of an item referred to as the Black Angel—an item thought of via evil males to be past worthy. however the Black Angel isn't really a legend. it really is actual. It lives. It goals. And the secret of its life could comprise the key of Parker's personal origins.
In een rode regencape stuift de uiterst aantrekkelijke Arendje van Nijmegen de recherchekamer van bureau Warmoesstraat binnen. Sinds haar echtgenoot met een buurman ging tennissen, is er niets meer van hem vernomen. Arendje vreest dat hij niet meer leeft. Heeft zij daar een reden toe? Of. .. .. Is er een ander in het spel, vraagt de ervaren rechercheur De Cock, met CeeOoCeeKaa.
- The Harry Bosch Novels, Volume 1: The Black Echo, The Black Ice, The Concrete Blonde (Harry Bosch, Books 1-3)
- A Dedicated Man (Chief Inspector Banks, Book 2)
- Imperfect Justice: Prosecuting Casey Anthony
- Dagger in the Crown (Tam Eildor, Book 1)
- Immigration, Crime and Justice (Sociology of Crime, Law and Deviance, Volume 13)
Additional info for Kiss of Death (Sophie Anderson, Book 5)
Angela drank from her bottle. The rain fell steadily on the parked cars. Women in sneakers made a run for it, water spinning from the cart wheels. ” DESCE NT 45 The old man hesitated. He didn’t look up. “I’m writing notes. ” “He doesn’t. ” “Oh. I’m sorry . ” “Well,” said the old man. Angela was silent. Then she said again that she was sorry, and the old man scratched at the tip of his nose. He stirred a finger in the white hair of his ear. “I figure I’ll go on writing him like before. He’s got a wife and a little boy and I figure that’s why I’m still here, so I can tell him how they’re doing.
When they stopped, Angela’s head, lolled against the window, did not stir. Grant pulled the collapsed wheelchair from the rear of the wagon and after a few minutes the boy was in it and they were pushing into a bitter wind, his bare leg pink and white in the cold. No warmer inside the men’s room but at least windless, the wind whistling around the glass blocks where the caulking had pulled away. A large man in a checkerboard winter vest glanced at them and turned back to his loud pissing. Sean wheeled himself to the handicap stall and Grant said, Will you be all 40 T I M J O H N STO N right?
She tried to think. She tried to remember what that meant. How you were supposed to feel. Above her, the flag lapped silkily upon itself, susurrant as some creek or stream making its way across the sky. The drops fell harder. Colder. She pulled the black umbrella from her tote bag and thumbed the button and the device shot forward and flapped into tautness over its bat-wing joints. She felt the pills under her heart like a hundred small hands holding it aloft. At home—at Grace’s—her little sister, who did not work on Mondays, was putting the kitchen back in order.